


Nueda- Ch1: The Call to Service

by ConnorJHadeset



Series: The Morning Star Legacy [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnorJHadeset/pseuds/ConnorJHadeset
Summary: The multiverse theory states there are multitudes of universes, each formed entirely randomly, with our universe being one that randomly developed in such a way that it supports life. This chapter is a glance into the Morning Star Universe, following one of the pillar characters, Nueda, in her journey to serve the Empire.





	Nueda- Ch1: The Call to Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My muse.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+muse.).



> This is a work of fan fiction inspired and based heavily off of the MMORPG Star Wars: The Old Republic. I do not own any of these characters, settings, or titles involved- the protagonist is the avatar I created during my playthrough. I will do my best to keep to the original storyline, but understand I will take liberties towards what I believe would be the better story.

Her clothes and personal belongings were surrendered to the droid behind the counter. Nueda was told she would require none of her things at the Academy. She was ushered along through the compact hallway towards a medical bay where a Chiss doctor stood with a trio of medical droids. His red, pupil-less eyes scanned over the data pad in front of him. He had a scab forming behind his jaw line; it was a much darker hue of blue than the rest of his skin. 

“Stand for me,” he droned. 

Nueda stood and held her arms horizontal as he requested. The doctor circled her and annotated the scars on her red skin; one along her right calf, another across her abdomen that went from an inch under her right breast and faded upon reaching her navel and the final one was a small burn scar on the appendage growing out like a shard from her left cheekbone. He said nothing of the piercings in her ears or down the front of her throat. Those were the ones she did not remove prior to arrival. 

The doctor nodded and waved her through; another hopeful took her place when she exited through the side hatch. The next station gave her the basic clothes of an Academy newcomer. She donned the stiff uniform; the fabric felt like leaves were sewn together. Nueda filed in with the others down the ramp towards the shuttle. 

The journey from the orbital station to the planet surface took the better part of a day. All the occupants were scattered about the half empty transport. A few would stand to find food or utilize the latrine. None spoke to each other but the air boiled with hostility. Nueda remained in her seat and watched the cold dark outside the window. Let a few of them kill each other, and it will be less competition for her later. 

As if on cue, a fight between two of the other passengers broke out. A fair skinned human man was killed by a red and black skinned Zabrak. The latter utilized the horns scattered across his scalp when ramming his head against the former’s throat. 

Initially it began with punches being thrown; Nueda did not see who started the fight. The human shot his open hand forward. The Zabrak wheezed and clawed at his throat, gasping for breath. Nueda’s eyebrow lifted; it was uncommon for someone with no formal training to Choke someone. She could not do it yet. She struggled with the more basic techniques of Push or Pull. 

The unique display of skill meant nothing. The Zabrak threw his arm towards the human but could not land any blows. Choke and a Barrier? Nueda began to study the human with interest; her first rival was making himself known. The interest faded when the human died. The Zabrak broke through the Barrier and his horns tore up the front of the human’s throat. 

Blood spread along the front of the human’s shirt, darkening the red Academy uniform. Small bits of skin clung to the victor’s horns. Free from the human’s grasp, the Zabrak gasped in gusts of air and bashed his fists into his opponent’s face; each blow did a noticeable harsher bit of damage than a normal fist should. 

There were four other passengers besides the two fighting and Nueda. They all stood and three began to cheer and call for more blood. Nueda stayed by her seat and peered past the shoulders of the others. The human’s life faded on the floor, crushed beneath the Zabrak’s assault, she looked away from the pair of them to the others. Her eyes lingered on each one for a moment. 

One was a slim male, blue skinned Twi’lek; he draped one of the two head tendrils from the back of his scalp over one shoulder. He traced lines along it as the blood spread over the bulkhead. Next to him was a Sith male. His black hair was braided into lines towards the back of his head, folded into a ponytail at the end. He too kept his facial piercings, the prominent ones hanging from the inch long tendrils on either side of his mouth. He took up a substantial bit of space with his broad shoulders; his muscles clearly seen through the uniform. 

The other two were female. The female cheering was a blonde human with skin just as fair as her dead peer. Her hair was cut short and there was a black tattoo rising from the back of her collar up to under her right eye. The passion shooting through her veins emanated outward from her pores. The other female was an altered human; Her right eye was a metal appendage that continued along her cheekbone to her ear. She was across the aisle from Nueda and stood with her at the breakout of the fight. She remained silent as well. 

The pair of them made eye contact for a moment. Both sets of eyes dropped to measure up the other person. There was contact again and they looked away, watching the color drain from the human man’s face. 

The corpse became a subject of fascination for the three spectators. The Twi’lek sat beside it for a time and attempted ameatur vantriliquism to the amusement of the blonde human, who decided to sit next to the Zabrak, feeling his horns and poking the pieces of flesh stuck there like a crown. The Sith knelt next to the body to dip his finger into the blood and lick it. This also took the blonde’s attention as she eyed the red skinned man with a grin. The Zabrak studied the Sith as well, yet with a different sort of interest than the blonde. 

After two hours the carcass was left unmolested until the shuttle landed. The hatch hissed open and an armored trooper stepped through. The bald human had a burn scar above his left ear; it was visible when he looked to his right at the body. He acknowledged the turn of events by deleting the human hopeful’s name off his data pad. 

The passengers stood and followed the black armored man down the ramp. Waiting for them was a dark skinned human with short cut black hair. He, too, was wearing black armor, but not like the trooper’s. This one had a white trim around the shoulders and appeared more lightweight than the soldier’s red trimmed one.  
“Line up here,” the man pointed. They stood shoulder to shoulder before the man. His dark eyes passed over and lingered on the face of each hopeful. He addressed the soldier, “Sergeant, where-”

“Dead, my lord,” the raspy voice answered. 

There was a sound in the line; an exhale that sounded amused. Nueda and the cyborg girl kept quiet but the others lacked the same composure. The man, the ‘lord,’ turned his attention to the hopefuls. His eyes found the Zabrak and rose to his horns, “I see,” he said.

The Zabrak grunted and dropped to his knees. Nueda looked over to the noise and saw the lord’s fist held out in front of him; he might have been holding a secret object in front of a child. His calm demeanor lowered to a scowl, “This will stop,” he stepped towards the kneeling Zabrak, “you will not kill your fellow students while you are here. 

Pain shot through Nueda, beginning at her throat and shooting down her extremities. As one, she and the other students dropped to their knees. Each gave a subdued noise of pain when they fell. 

“I am Overseer Tremel,” the lord said. “You are all students of the Sith Academy and you will abide by the rules of your betters.” 

Nueda focused on the pain. It paralyzed her. Her mind felt for where it started; it was at her throat and went through her chest and spine. Her leg muscles were tight, as if being pulled apart. This sensation would echo in her bones and into her knees. It stopped there, at the knees. If she could focus on the pressure at her throat, maybe the rest of the pain would subside. 

“Here,” the overseer continued, “you are allowed to defend yourself but you will not attack your fellow student.” 

A small stream of air came through into Nueda’s lungs. She focused on the panic that tickled the top of her spine and pushed it away. Her throat opened further. 

“If you have any plans on killing anyone, it will be at the command of your superiors,” the overseer addressed the Zabrak directly. “We are at war, you idiot. You are here to fatten the ranks. You will be taught how to fight and pushed out to fight under a Lord somewhere.” 

The pain softened in Nueda’s legs, but not enough to stand. She focused there now. 

“My duty is to acquire acolytes like you,” the overseer punched the Zabrak, “and direct you to be battle ready. And I cannot do that if you all kill each other before you arrive. I will be dead before I see any hope for our Empire dwindle and fall because of an infection of idiocy in our ranks.” 

A grunt robbed the overseer’s attention from the Zabrak. Nueda was rising. It was slow and sweat poured down her face. Boots clicked towards her and the overseer studied her with a curious gaze. Finally, she was on her feet. 

The air lost its density for a moment and the other hopefuls in line gasped, some falling forward onto their hands. All that pressure left them and surrounded Nueda. The avalanche of invisible weight pushed her back to her knees. 

“Know your place, acolyte,” Overseer Tremlin muttered. 

She glared up at him, baring her teeth. Nueda pushed a long groan from her fangs. The pressure around her throat, torso, and knees increased substantially and she doubled her effort to push it away from her throat. Rage burned in her heart. Nueda pushed it outward, forcing the pressure away. Her dark gold eyes met the overseer’s brown ones. She moved to rise again; it was slow and her body shook and trembled. 

The crown of her head hit an invisible wall and could not rise anymore. The wall vanished with the pressure threatening to crush her body. The air around her cleared and the effort in her legs shot her up. Her feet left the ground for a moment, making any ignorant onlooker assume she decided to skip like a child. 

The overseer studied her still. After a long time, he blinked away from her and told the soldier to show them to their quarters. They were filed out down a ramp onto the sand below. Before them was set of pyramids. One in front and one on either side of them. The soldier led them down the path between the middle and right structures of ancient and sand withered stone. The cyclopean statues of Sith of old, clad in armor and wielding blades, peered down on the students as they trekked past. 

Though she was in the middle of the pack, Nueda felt the eyes of the others on her. The Zabrak peered over his shoulder at her for a moment. The blonde studied her, so did the Twi’lek. The other Sith in the group paid her no mind. The cyborg woman made no sign of recognition one way or another. 

Past the three pyramids was a fourth; this one was not ancient. The metal walls were coated in the harsh sand and it towered over the other three. The immense ramp in the center was surrounded by more armored soldiers as well as robed figures standing over other students. Circles were made around the instructors; some lectured, others monitored duels. 

Nueda took in the Academy as it lorded over her and every other person near her. Each step up the slope brought her closer to her glorious destiny.


End file.
